


Take Me To Church

by tilda



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [5]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:44:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tilda/pseuds/tilda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Harry do the do. </p><p>Prequel to <a href="http://tilda.tumblr.com/post/82477084415/nick-and-harry-turn-up-four-hours-late-for-their">this ficlet</a> on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me To Church

Gemma and Jane are waiting for them outside Manchester Town Hall. It’s half-eight in the morning and Jane’s got a bottle of something tucked into the crook of her elbow and Gemma’s got some plastic picnic glasses.

‘Oh Jesus, not more booze,’ says Nick.

‘Shut up, Nicholas,’ says Jane. ‘This is for us.’ She nods sideways at Gemma. ‘We bloody need it.’

They’d been surprisingly amenable, given they were both roused from their beds by their possibly-still-drunk brothers at a traumatically early hour.

‘There’s been a change of plan,’ Nick had said. ‘Nothing bad!’ Harry had added happily.

Jane had grumbled, Gemma had giggled, and they all agreed that turning up in person was the best way of getting an appointment with the registrar at short notice, so here they all were. Helping Nick and Harry elope. Sort of.

‘Can you even do this?’ Gemma says as she hugs Harry. ‘It’s not like getting fitted in at the hairdressers,’

‘Maybe it is?’ Harry says.

‘Maybe we’ll get a junior stylist who’s only done one wedding before,’ Nick puts in. They’re definitely still a bit drunk, Harry thinks.

As Harry hugs Jane, she murmurs into his ear, ‘Whose idea was it?’

He hesitates microscopically before saying ‘Mine.’

‘Liar,’ she says, drawing away from him, but she’s smiling. Harry’s still a little bit terrified of her. He probably always will be. It hits him then. He’s going to know Jane for the rest of his life, probably, barring accidents. And Eileen, and Pete. And Nick’s going to know Gem and his mum and everyone.

 

There’s a moment when the clerk is frowning at her schedule and muttering ‘we’re not supposed to do this’ and Harry’s disappointment catches him like he’s stepping on a rake. That’s when he and Nick turn their charm up to eleven, Jane starts glaring, and eventually the clerk concedes that there _had_ been a cancellation at ten o’clock.

‘Yes,’ Harry hisses, actually fistpumping. In a very short space of time he’s become completely invested in the idea of doing this now. Getting married in his mum’s garden, in front of all their beloveds, was a perfectly lovely thing to do, but this was better and he wanted it more.

They sit on a bench outside the town hall while they wait for their… appointment? Harry doesn’t know what to call it. They pass the bottle of champagne back and forth between them (the plastics turn out to be cracked) while people hurry by on their way to work, barely sparing them a glance. They could be students, Harry supposes, done with finals; or depressed office-workers; or incredibly clean, well-dressed winos.

‘So, what’s the big emergency?’ asks Gemma as she hands the bottle to Nick.

Nick shrugs. ‘Just felt like it.’

Gemma looks like she doesn’t believe that for a second. Neither does Jane. ‘Is Harry preggers?’

Jane’s got the bottle now and nearly blows her mouthful back inside it.

‘No, Styles,’ says Nick fighting a smile underneath his sunglasses. ‘Harry is not up the duff.’

‘Honestly, Gem,’ says Harry. ‘I can’t believe you think that’s even a possibility. You know I’ve kept true to my purity ring.’ He holds up the finger with the chunky skull-face ring on it.

‘Why the rush then?’ This is Jane. It’s Harry’s turn to shrug.

‘The last couple of days have been a bit mad. Made us realise some things. Like, we love our friends and that. But this is just - ’

‘It’s about us,’ Nick says, making them all look at him. He’s staring straight ahead, or seems to be, under his sunglasses. ‘The last couple of days have been brilliant, amazing, but we’ve been surrounded by people the whole time. And this morning, we ended up in the park, and it was quiet and beautiful and it was just me and Haz.’

He breaks off to take a swig from the bottle. It’s gone so quiet that Harry could swear even the traffic’s stopped to listen.

‘And when I thought about it,’ Nick goes on, ‘I didn’t want anyone else around. I think we forgot… or I forgot… that this is about something that’s just between us, in the end. Haz always remembers stuff like this, the private, important stuff. But I don’t, so I forgot. This isn’t just about having a big party.’

Nick never talks about their relationship, to Harry or anyone else. Harry’s never minded. He’s just put it down to Nick being Nick. But right now, he doesn’t trust himself to speak.

Luckily Jane has some presence of mind. ‘Oh love,’ she says, and pulls Nick against her, smacking a kiss to his temple. ‘Listen to you, all mature. My little brother’s growed up. He’s getting maaaarried.’ 

Nick looks shy and pleased. ‘It’s him, you know. If I’m grown up it’s down to him.’

Harry dips his head. ‘Speeches are s’posed to come later, I thought,’ he mumbles.

Jane’s sitting between them and slings her other arm around Harry. ‘My new little brother.’

‘Jesus, are you already pissed?’ Says Nick. ‘You’ve had like, four swigs.’

‘Shut up. I’m allowed to get sentimental.’

Harry feels Gemma’s arm slide through his. ‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Well done plonker. You did good for someone with such a curly brain.’ She reaches up to tug on a lock of his hair.

Harry feels Jane stretch behind him to squeeze Gemma’s shoulder.

‘And I’ve got a kid sister now as well.’

‘Yay!’ says Gemma, lifting the bottle which has just come back into her possession. ‘I’ve always wanted a big sister.’

‘Oh my god,’ says Nick. ‘Everybody shut up now before I actually vomit.’

At ten past ten, they’re ushered into a functional grey room where the registrar is waiting for them. She shakes their hands and they confirm their names. It reminds Harry of getting his passport renewed, and all of a sudden it all feels much more solemn than he was expecting. He’d never have believed standing in a room painted municipal eau-de-nil, furnished with some plastic stackable chairs and four other people - one of them a public official and a complete stranger to him - could feel solemn and significant, but it does. More so, he thinks, than if they’d done it as planned this afternoon at his mum’s. This is more like doing something in the eyes of the law. It’s not in front of hundreds of people, but it is public. You’re telling the state about your private relationship with somebody else, Harry thinks. And it occurs to him then, what an odd thing it is to do. Why’s it necessary? Why does anybody want to do it?

He wants to do it though. The registrar is fussing with some paperwork and Gem and Jane are chatting in low voices, Gem pointing up at the moulded cornices, buried under decades of government-issue matt emulsion. Then he looks over at Nick and finds Nick is eyeing him with a half smile. Harry’s stomach does a slow tumble, maybe a triple roll, and he thinks, they’re really doing this. Nick feels it too, he knows. _What are you looking at?_ He tips his head at Nick. _Not your ugly face_ , Nick says back by tugging the half-smile a half-centimetre wider. Harry grins then, and Nick grins back, until the registrar clears her throat and says, ‘Right. Shall we get started?’


End file.
